


The Crowned Princess of Crime-: A Jester's Tail

by KissMyAssButt67



Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Multi, Next Generation, The Joker's Daughter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-19
Updated: 2014-12-19
Packaged: 2018-03-02 05:50:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 744
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2801885
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KissMyAssButt67/pseuds/KissMyAssButt67
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When the Joker's only daughter, Ace Quinzel, falls into a tub of chemicals all believe her to be dead (including her father) but now she's back and she's taking over Gotham. <br/>She's rising the villains with a wicked laugh, she's a strong, smart homocidal bitch who knows the true key to Gotham's crown: Batman's Head. </p><p>Can the dark knight truly defeat the heir to the villainy crown?</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Crowned Princess of Crime-: A Jester's Tail

For once no chilling laughter ripped from his throat, no cruel smile graced his face. It was just poor agony on the face of the Joker, he who always wore a smile, always had a happy glint those eyes. He watched as she speedily plummeted to her damnation, he called out to the child he called his own but she could not do anything but scream for her Daddy. He was her hero, not Bats, and he couldn’t save her. Batman was too busy restraining him and that just angered him, was she not worth as much as every other citizen? Just because she was the spawn of the crowned prince of crime she meant less?! “Ace!” he yelled out, thrashing against his nemesis, ready to dive in with her so she didn’t go mad alone. He remembered it, remembered what it felt like, for so long it was confusing, scary and that was his little girl. That was the only thing he had left of his Sugar. Finally her screams stopped, but there was no laughter, no screams of pain, just agonising silence. When he was dragged back to every criminals own personal hell he did not struggle, and he could see it in his cell mates eyes. All of them had always looked to him, even if it was only in begrudging respect that he could hold out against the cape crusader the longest, and they could see it, he was broken. The Joker had finally been broken, for nothing was worse than the feeling of having your own child ripped from your arms.

Harley had always said Ace was too young, Ace wasn’t ready, but he had been insistent. His baby girl enjoyed the goon’s pain, she loved to laugh as the police all fell one by one by her father’s strength and smarts; she loved his gadgets. Her laughter was almost as chilling as his, and now…now she was gone. Not one doctor dared to try to console him, nor did any of the other criminals. He was the Joker still; he would always be the best (or worst). Batman watched his favourite criminal, not that he’d ever admit it, that he had gained some sort of affection for with pity. The Joker had lost Harley, but that had only angered him. She wasn’t his love, he didn’t even think the Joker _could_ love, but she was something and he had (of course) avenged her.

This was different, he had adored Ace; he had even quit crime for a while to raise her once Harley was dead. Ace had of course shown the same sadistic traits as her father, she giggled and pointed as men were tortured to death. She had splashed in an officer’s blood pools, the first time he had seen her. Joker hardly truly fled from Batman, but when it came to _her_ he had ran as fast as he could. She had just been eight, and it seemed so young. Joker had looked ready to dive into that pool of insanity, to wrap his long lean arms and legs around her, to attempt to protect her from whatever horrors Joker solely understood. Batman could now hold a small amount of respect for the criminal, for more than his wit and creativity. He held a love which was rare in criminals for that young girl, Ace. And as he left he could feel the fear that resided within every inmate, every doctors and therapist, every official because the silence was deafening. The inmates looked forward to Joker’s reassuring laughter, because he was the king of Arkham. It meant there was hope, hope of escape, hope that maybe they weren’t as crazy as he was, hope that there was always a chance to get out but now Joker was deafly silent. There was nothing to be heard now, once thrown in his cell he wiped his face clean, he wondered if his father ever felt this way when _he_ heard what had happened. If he cried over a little boy called Jack. 

Joker may not have loved his Harley, but she had been his none the less. Despair wrecked his body as he realized, he didn’t want to get out this time. He didn’t want to plan, or kill or hurt. He just wanted Ace back, and now it was too late. “Fuck you Batman!” he yelled out angrily, hoping the bastard in black could hear him.


End file.
